


A Ticklish Pedicure

by ClayJackson



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Foot Fetish, M/M, No genitals Bubby, Pedicure, idk what else to tag this with Coomer washes his feet and then tickles him until he cums that's it, tickling kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClayJackson/pseuds/ClayJackson
Summary: The sound of nails catching on metal makes Coomer jump more than the feeling of it. Bubby swearing comes next and he looks away from the TV at him. “Shit,” Bubby says as he reaches down and rubs at his foot. “Damn cybernetics.”Coomer rolled his eyes. “It’s not the cybernetics that’s the problem."
Relationships: Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	A Ticklish Pedicure

**Author's Note:**

> Here is some foot fetish porn for y'all. Bubby's long as claws get caught on Coomer's cybernetics often and they gotta keep them trimmed down but unfortunately Bubby is both sensitive and ticklish and it always gets out of hand and turns into weird sex. Also no genitals Bubby is 10/10 you're welcome.

The sound of nails catching on metal makes Coomer jump more than the feeling of it. Bubby swearing comes next and he looks away from the TV at him. “Shit,” Bubby says as he reaches down and rubs at his foot. “Damn cybernetics.”

Coomer rolled his eyes. “It’s not the cybernetics that’s the problem,” he says as he gets out of bed, ignoring Bubby snipping at him from the living room. He comes back after a minute with a bucket, a small bag, and a towel draped over his arm. 

“Really, Harold?” Bubby says, crossing his arms over his chest and curling his legs up under himself. 

“Yes, Bubby,” Coomer said back. “It’s not comfortable for either of us to have your nails catching on me when we’re sleeping. Now come sit down.” He put the bucket down by the chair on the other side of the room. 

Bubby grumbled but climbed out of bed, dragging a smaller blanket over his shoulders with him. He plopped down in the chair, wrapping the blanket tight around himself. 

Coomer pushed the bucket closer to him, allowing Bubby to sink his feet into the warm, soapy water. He saw his husband relax visibly from the warmth and smiled, grabbing a washcloth he had brought with him and reaching into the water himself. He started washing Bubby’s feet, gently scrubbing the washcloth against his skin.

He was careful to avoid Bubby’s long nails, not wanting them to catch on his actual hands. He started at the heel, rubbing off any dirt and dead skin that had built up since the last time they had done this. Bubby’s foot twitched and he huffed. Coomer pressed down firmer with the cloth, trying to avoid tickling his husband too much. 

He moved onto the arch of Bubby’s foot, grabbing onto his ankle firmly. He could feel Bubby tense up as he tried to keep himself from kicking, covering his mouth with the blanket. It wasn’t hard to hold his leg in place though. 

He worked over the ball of his foot and up, taking the time to carefully wash each of his toes. Bubby was squealing into the blanket, the texture of the washcloth tickling his sensitive skin. It was taking all of his energy to not kick the other leg that Coomer wasn’t holding on to. 

Coomer finished washing off his foot and moved onto the other, repeating the same process with it. By the time he had finished up, Bubby was catching his breath from muffling his laughter. Coomer smiled, pulling his feet out of the water and wrapping them in a clean towel. “Wait right there,” he said, grabbing the bucket and taking it to the bathroom to dump it out. 

When he came back, Bubby had calmed down, wiping his face off with his blanket as he relaxed back into the chair. Coomer sat back down on the floor, opening up the bag next to them and pulling out a large pair of nail clippers. Bubby’s nails were thick and tough, it took a strong pair to actually cut through them. 

Coomer clipped his nails carefully, making sure not to take too much off in one go. He got each of them down to a much more manageable length and set the clippers down, picking up a nail file instead. Not only was Bubby’s nails strong, they were sharp too. The best way for them to deal with that was to take a file to them after making them shorter and rounding off all the hard edges to them. He worked steadily, dragging the file in the same direction with each stroke to keep the edges clean. 

Bubby twitched with the movement of Coomer’s hand as he covered his mouth again to keep from laughing too much. He was struggling harder to keep himself from squirming too much, but he didn’t want to get jabbed with the file Coomer was using. 

Coomer was focused on making sure each nail was diligently cleaned up, biting down on his lip as he worked. It took several minutes for him to get through all ten nails before he sighed, packing the file and clippers back into the bag. “There,” he said as he looked up at Bubby. 

His husband’s eyes were almost completely black from how large his pupils were, and Coomer noticed how soaked the blanket was where it was pressed against his mouth. He gasped, sitting back and setting a hand on his chest. “You’re  _ horny _ ,” Coomer said. 

Bubby groaned and covered his face with the wet blanket. “You know how sensitive I am!” he mumbled through the fabric, face flushing red. “We do this every other week and you always act like it’s a surprise.”

Coomer smiled, reaching out and running his hands up the tops of his feet, making him twitch hard. “I always forget how much you like it,” he teased, moving his thumbs in slow circles over the top of his feet. “I get so caught up in taking care of you that I lose focus.”

“No you fucking don’t,” Bubby snapped back, “you just like seeing me get flustered.”

Coomer laughed, squeezing Bubby’s ankles in order to get a groan out of him, a second one following when he felt one of the bones in his ankle pop back into place. “That is nice too,” he replied. “You should move the blanket so I can enjoy it.”

Bubby groaned in embarrassment but did so, glaring down at Coomer with his wide eyes as drool dripped down his chin. “Happy?” 

His husband breathed in slowly as he looked up at him, moving his hands back down his feet. “You’re so wet for me, Bubby,” he said as he took one of his feet into both of his hands, cradling it gently. “Love it when you get so turned on that you’re dripping.” 

He groaned above him, head falling back as Coomer squeezed his foot, another small pop shifting a loose bone back into place. It was hard to keep his focus with the way his feet were being touched. Having no genitals made it difficult for him to get properly aroused, but over the years they had discovered various ways to do so. Bubby was  _ much  _ more sensitive in many ways, especially on body parts that were already sensitive to normal humans. All of the touching and focus on his feet always got him turned on. 

Coomer hummed as he traced his fingers along the sole of his foot, making him jump and laugh. He grabbed his ankle to hold him still, allowing him to tickle his skin easily. He moved his fingers along the gentle curves of his foot, occasionally skimming his nail against his skin to get a sharp laugh and flexing of a kick that he couldn’t actually do. 

“Harold,” Bubby said between laughs, clinging to the blanket to keep from digging his other nails into the upholstery of the chair. His heart was pounding as he felt his skin prickling. 

“Mhm?” he responded, letting go of his foot to grab the other one, lightly tracing his nails along the pad beneath his toes. Bubby let out a loud laugh, his other foot kicking out against Coomer but just bouncing off when it hit his arm. Without his sharp nails, he was much less dangerous to deal with when he was kicking out in laughter. 

“Feels good!” He cackled, legs wiggling as he tried to keep himself still but couldn’t help struggling against the sensation. The feeling spread up his legs and swarmed over the rest of his body, making his heart beat fast and his head spin. 

“Does it, darling? What about when I do this?” Coomer said before moving quickly to wrap his arm around both of Bubby’s legs. He held them tightly with one arm while the other hand danced across the dip in his arch. 

Bubby squealed as he used any self restraint he had to keep from clawing up the chair or Coomer. The muscles in his legs flexed as he instinctively fought against the tickling, squirming in the chair and throwing his head back and forth as he laughed. “H-Harold!”  
Coomer was relentless as he tickled the bottom of his feet, keeping his movements unpredictable so Bubby couldn’t get too comfortable while also tortuously focusing on the especially sensitive parts. “Yes? Feel even better?”  
His husband nodded slightly before getting lost in laughter again, throwing his head back against the chair as Coomer moved his fingers over his heel. “Oh my god, oh my god,” Bubby gasped out with and between laughter. 

“That’s not an answer,” Coomer teased as he focused on a ticklish spot along Bubby’s outer arch. 

Bubby shrieked as he couldn’t help but sink his nails into the upholstery in order to keep from clawing at Coomer out of reflex. He gasped for breath as he laughed, throwing his head back and forth as his eyes started to water. “Yes!!”

Coomer grinned as he continued to intensely tickle him, loving the way his tears rolled down his cheeks to join the wetness dripping out of his mouth. He could feel how much Bubby was struggling against him, not that it was any difficulty for Coomer to keep him held in place. He’d have to patch up the chair (again) when they were done, but that was the small price he was willing to pay to enjoy this moment. 

“Harold,” Bubby managed to just squeak out. There was a flush over him and he could feel the tension and heat build up in him as he cackled when Coomer tickled him faster. “I’m-” he got caught off in a high pitched whine and shook as Coomer focused along the ball of his foot. 

“Yes, darling? Going to come for me?” Coomer said as he kept his fingers moving. 

Bubby nodded shakily before gasping, tears streaming down his face as his voice got caught somewhere between a laugh and a moan. He ripped the fabric on the arms of the chair as he tensed up, his whole body feeling hot as his orgasm built up before it hit him. The air got caught in his lungs as he came, unable to laugh and unable to moan as his body shook, and spit gushed down his chin and neck, soaking into his shirt. 

Coomer continued to tickle him through his orgasm, smiling wide as he watched Bubby’s head fall back and the way his hands flexed. He could feel the muscles in his legs seizing up, even as they twitched in an attempt to get away from his fingers.

Bubby’s orgasm started to fade slowly and he was able to gasp for breath, laughing dryly as Coomer kept up his motions. He quivered as he whined and laughed, his husband’s touch overstimulating to his sensitive feet. “H-Harold,” he gasped. 

After a few more moments of enjoying the way Bubby whined and shook and the way his muscles strained for freedom, Coomer slowed down his fingers, finally giving him a break. Bubby when slack against the chair, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “Fuck,” he said between breaths. 

Coomer laughed softly and brought one of Bubby’s feet to his mouth, placing a kiss against the top of his foot and sending a shiver through him. “Feel nice?” 

Bubby nodded weakly, spending most of his energy on tugging his nails out from the chair’s arms. His brain buzzed pleasantly as he felt the full body throb course through him, his muscles relaxing slowly. “Yes,” he panted, slowly blinking his eyes open. He put in the effort to lift his head up, looking down at Coomer and smiling. “I think you enjoy doing that too much.” 

Coomer smiled and pressed a kiss to Bubby’s knee, standing up from the floor and holding out his hand. “You might be right about that, dear.”

Bubby unhooked his last nail from the fabric he had gotten them stuck in and lifted his hand, letting it fall against Coomer’s heavily. “You might have to pick me up if you want me to move.”

A moment later and Coomer had his arms wrapped under him, effortlessly lifting him up and carrying him to the bed. “I think you just like being carried instead of having to walk yourself,” he teased back, craning his neck to kiss his cheek. 

“Perhaps,” he responded, kissing him back before slumping onto the bed when Coomer laid him down. “I can’t help but enjoy being lifted up by my big strong man.” He laughed softly as Coomer climbed into bed next to him, rolling over to wrap his arms around him. 

“You’re too spoiled,” Coomer said, pulling him close and kissing the top of his head. “Getting picked up, having custom pedicures, orgasms.”

Bubby slapped him limply with a smile, snuggling into his warm chest. “It’s your fault for spoiling so much.” He sighed heavily, relaxing into the pillows as exhaustion overcame him. 

Coomer smiled softly, running his hand over him slowly. “Possibly, but at least now we can sleep without you hurting yourself on my legs.” 


End file.
